


A Little Less Conversation

by iwasanartist



Series: Come Together [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time Together, Friends to Lovers, Lots and lots of sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Season 5, Sex, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8605423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasanartist/pseuds/iwasanartist
Summary: All the sexy goodtimes that happened between the lines of "It's Been A Long Time Coming."  This can be read as stand-alone and still have an emotional kick, but if you want to see what brought Stilinski and Melissa to a Hill Valley hotel and the breakfast-with-the-boys shenanigans that come after, check that one out, too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I stole a few sentences from "It's Been a Long Time Coming" to lead into this companion piece, so if it looks a little familiar...just give it a minute.

John couldn't help but stare at Melissa as she sat on the edge of the hotel dresser. She had a small tattoo he’d never known about: a wolf’s paw print, the pad in the middle shaped like a heart, rested on her chest just low enough to stay hidden behind a top. It was a reminder of the way their lives had changed over the past few years. A signal that no matter how bad things got, love would hold her family together. A symbol of everything that made the woman before him who she was, and he wouldn’t change her for anything.

Looking at her now, he realized just how much he wanted her. It was a desire so intense that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to be so hungry for a woman in front of him.

He leaned down and kissed the tattoo, almost certain he could hear the steady beating of her heart as he went back to her lips, pulling one into his own, letting his teeth gently nibble before moving to her neck. She breathed heavily, her arms wrapped tightly around him, nails just starting to scratch at his skin. He moved to her throat and could feel her moan softly as his hands went behind her back, unhooking her bra. She grabbed him by the waistband of his jeans, pulled him closer still, grinding against him. His breath came in shuddered bursts as his body responded to her touch. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her smile as he moved lower, sucking gently at her breast before dropping to one knee, peppering her abdomen with kisses. She moved her hands from him and placed them on the dresser, lifting herself slightly so that when he went to her waist, her jeans slipped off like nothing, revealing soft pink cotton panties that already felt warm with heat.

He tasted her through the fabric, and her sharp intake of breath and clench of her hand returning to his shoulder made a part of him twitch and tingle as he removed her last garment.

One leg was flung over his shoulder, and he started there, kissing his way from knee to thigh until he reached her center. His first kiss against her skin there was gentle. More of a nuzzle, really, but her response to it emboldened him. He opened his mouth to her, let his tongue wash over, around and inside as her chest heaved with pleasure.

And when he reached that one spot within her folds -- that spot that was just as hard as he'd even been -- he flicked his tongue and could feel her legs stiffen all the way down to her toes. He licked, he sucked, he curled his tongue around her, and she thrashed against him, moaning. She ended with an explosion of warmth and a whimper as one hand clung tightly to his shoulder.

"Kiss me," she whispered so quietly he almost didn't hear her. "Kiss me."

He rose to his feet, letting his lips trail across her body until he reached her mouth. Her hands went back to his waistband, opening his fly, tugging his clothes down and grasping for his cock.

Her hands were smooth and soft and cold, and he hardened quickly under her touch. Her mouth shifted to his ear.

"I want you," she whispered as his cock rubbed against her abdomen. Her tongue flitted lightly in his ear as her stomach rose and fell against the head of his dick. _"I need you."_

With one arm wrapped around her, he stretched the other out for the shopping bags, rustling his fingers through the plastic until they emerged with a box of condoms. He grappled one-handed with the box, but a small dot of tape was threatening to be his downfall. Giving up on a clean open, he scratched at the cardboard, tearing the box until he could grasp a packet, wriggle it to the opening he'd created and fling his arm until the box went flying from his hand, leaving just his prize behind.

Carefully, he tore at the packet with his teeth, and she was on him as soon as the condom was, and it was heaven. His eyes swam as her legs wrapped around him -- her arms braced on the dresser as they thrusted into one another. She lifted one hand and placed it on the edge of the TV for balance, realizing her error too late as the screen wobbled on its base, careening off center. It was through some kind of miracle that her ass found the dresser again and between the two of them, they were able to keep the TV from falling entirely. A corner banged loudly into the wall, and once the set was settled -- stable, but askew -- she buried her face into his neck and laughed. He couldn't help but join her.

"Bed?" she said between breaths.

"Bed."

Somewhere between the two feet from standing at the dresser to lying in bed, the mood shifted. What had been a frantic fuck full of blazing hot need mellowed into gentle caresses, nips and kisses, and when he entered her, his eyes closed briefly at the sheer rightness of it.

She moaned beneath him, almost a whimper, and when he opened his eyes, she was gazing back at him with eyes glassy and dark with desire. He swore he could see their lives to this moment in her eyes -- the lows, the highs, the pain and the things that now seemed oh-so-right -- and it made him push harder into her. Hold her tighter. Let their bodies rock like boats on a turbulent ocean.

Her chest rose and fell against his with each quickening breath, and each breath was music in his ears. It was with a choked cry that she tightened around him. It was a total body experience as she came, and her hold on him left him groaning on the edge.

He could have pulled out of her. Could have pulled out, torn off the condom and given a few easy strokes, maybe let his cock slide between her breasts and over her body until he spilled onto her stomach or her chest and watched the pearlescent trail flow across her skin.

Except, he couldn't. Not this time.  This time, all he wanted was to thrust inside of her, feel her body wrap around his, breathe in her scent as she whispered in his ear.

_"That's it...that's it....yes, it's okay."_ Her breath came in heavy gasps as she spoke. The words weren't for her, he realized. They weren't the incoherent babbling of a talkative person on the verge of orgasm -- she'd been there, already. Twice. They were for him. Encouragement. Reassurance. Blatant permission to leave the past in the past and forge a new thing with her -- _"Don't stop"_ \-- to cast off his coping mechanisms and his loneliness and to just be with her. To be a part of her. To be _them._ He could feel his neck beginning to flush. Feel the heat creeping up his skin. _"Oh, god, John."_ Her fingernails -- short, though they were -- dug into his back, and he exploded with a groan muzzled only by the way his face was buried in the hollow of her neck. All he could see, hear, smell or taste was her, and it was exhilarating. Intoxicating. Exhausting.

He was still for a moment, waiting for his breath to catch, for his heart to stop pounding in his ears. And when he propped himself up, about to roll off and out of her, he was stopped by her hand on his forearm as the other went to his face and fingers gently swiped across his cheeks. He closed his eyes to her touch and realized the wetness that tugged at his eyelashes, threatening to stick them awkwardly together until her thumb brushed across them, sweeping away the tears he hadn't even realized he'd cried.

The redness that had enflamed him in the throes of passion must have abated, because he could feel a blush in his cheeks begin to reform. He looked away and gave a slight cough as he pulled away from her. Didn't meet her eyes as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and tossed the spent condom in the trash.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"For _what_?" the words were almost a laugh as she reached a hand out and ran her fingers down his spine.

"I'm not usually like that," he said. "I'm not. I mean, I don't usually turn into a fucking tomato and cry all over the place at the drop of a hat like some kind of idiot."

He could practically feel Melissa smiling behind him.

"If that was a drop of a hat," she said as she tugged at his elbow until he turned around and joined her at the head of the bed, "it was some hat." She nestled in close to him, her head resting on his shoulder with one arm draped over his chest. "I'm talking, 10-gallon cowboy hat with snakeskin trim. Maybe some feathers hanging off-"

His laugh interrupted her, a chittering thing that pushed through his teeth as he smiled down at her. She looked up at him and kissed him once, chastely on the lips before stretching her entire body out along his. Her toes  tickled at his calf and the arm across his chest straightened and curled back around until they were holding each other.

"God, sometimes I wish I still smoked," she said with a yawn.

"Really? I didn't know you smoked."

"Long time ago," she said with dismissive wave of her hand. "Before I knew better. Well, old enough to know better, but too young to resist. There was just something about the taste. The feel of it between the lips that was just a great cap to perfect moments."

"Perfect moment, huh."

"Yeah," she grinned up at him, and even in the dim light from the table lamp, he could see all of her teeth shining back at him before the smile faded. "But I quit after my dad...when I realized I was trading away all those future moments for a little spark and smoke."

"For what it's worth," he said as he held her a little tighter, "I'm glad you quit. I'm glad we're here. In this moment." He could feel her smile slightly against his chest. They sat like that for several moments. Still and calm, and he was just beginning to feel a heaviness set in his eyelids when he felt something else. Melissa's eyelashes fluttered against his skin as she tried desperately to blink back tears that were running over and onto him.

"What's wrong?" he said softly, his brow furrowing with the question. She let out a puff of air, almost like a sob before pulling away from him and scooting up so she was seated more fully against the headboard.

"Nothing," she said as she wiped at her eyes.  "It's stupid."

"Come on, what is it?" John asked as he pushed himself higher in bed until they were sitting face-to-face again. She shook her head slightly, her gaze fixed to the ceiling as one finger settled in the corner of her eye, trying to hold back an onslaught.

"Melissa," he reached out, pushed her hair out of the way and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What?"

"It's just...god, John, how long have we known each other?"

John thought back. It seemed like forever. They'd seen each other through heartbreak, divorce and death. They'd known each other before the boys. Before marriages that everyone thought would last a lifetime. It was college. She and Claudia were juniors, he was a senior taking a victory lap for a few classes that hadn't fit into his schedule any other way.

"God, Mel," he said. "It's been...22 years."

"22 years," she repeated as she cleared her throat and wiped away the tears that had finally stopped flowing. "We've known each other for 22 years. And for almost half them, we've been alone, Johnny," she said easily slipping back into the days when he was just Johnny Stilinski, she was Mel Delgado and the world seemed so much simpler. "We've been alone, and I don't know," she continued. "Maybe...maybe we _needed_ that time to get here, but right now?" She reached down and took his hand, lacing her fingers between his. "Right now, all I can think is how much time did we waste? How much time do we have _left_?" He took a breath, about to speak, when she carried on. "I mean it, in this town with its werewolves and its kanimas, darachs -- I still don't even really know what that is -- and now assassins and berserkers and whatever the hell-"

He covered her mouth with his own, catching the flood of words and replacing them with a deep kiss that she could feel all the way to her bones as his tongue slid against hers and across the roof of her mouth. When he pulled away, he held both her hands in his.

"A darach," he said softly "is an evil druid. I'm pretty sure a kanima is just a werewolf that needs to work out its issues even more than the other ones, so hey, almost one and the same, there." He kissed her again, lightly this time. "And I don't know how much time we have left. It could be 22 more years," he turned his eyes to the ceiling, bobbed his head with some mental math, "44 if we're lucky. It could be 22 more minutes. But whether its 20 minutes or 40 years, I'm going to be grateful for every second. And I don't care how long it took to get here. I'm just glad we did."

She smiled as his words washed over her, cleansing her of fear and regret and warming her more than the bedding ever could. She was still smiling when she rose up and placed a knee on either side of John, straddling him at the waist and leaning forward to take his lips in hers.

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," she whispered in his ear before her kisses traveled down his jaw. Before her lips found and her tongue flicked across a ticklish spot on his neck that made him flinch and squirm beneath her. She traveled lower, stopping briefly at his nipple for a wet, sloppy kiss, until finally she was at his hip, no longer straddling him, but lying half on, half-off his legs. She kept one hand on his chest but let the other wrap around his cock, giving it a careful tug while her tongue flitted over a thin scar on his abdomen. _Appendix_ she thought, briefly wondering when that happened.

He was soft in her hand, but as she moved her mouth to the base of shaft, sucked gently on the tender skin and slid her tongue along his length, she could feel him begin to harden again. She could hear it in the groan that escaped his lips, and both made her smile. When she reached his tip, she held it between her lips, moistened it with slow deliberate movements and breathed him in. She could almost take him all, and as she slid over him, working her mouth and throat with an ease that came as natural as anything, the hand at his base twisted with a motion that left his hands digging into the sheets when they weren't wrapped in her hair.

She released him, rolled off the bed and sauntered across the room, stopping in front of the TV that was still off-kilter and giving him a show as she bent down to retrieve the mangled box of condoms. She ran her fingers along the ripped cardboard until she found the natural opening and pulled, opening the box with ease and plucking out a foil packet.

"What do you say, old man?" she asked as she returned to him and sat by his side. "Have a round two in you?"

He glanced down at his cock, just as hard as it had inexplicably ever been when he was 13 and sitting in Algebra.

"Oh, I think I can manage." He reached for the condom, but she pulled it back with a devilish smile, opened the package and bent down, settling the latex ring between her lips and sliding it on. She straddled him again, running her fingers briefly between her legs with a sigh before grasping his cock again, rubbing herself against his head and lowering onto him.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she settled and began to move with motions that were just as slow and steady as her breath. She ran her hands over her body, no longer bothered by the soft belly that bore the signs of having birthed a child, caring only about the feel of him as he filled her. Her hands kneaded her breasts before traveling to her neck, running through her hair until it was all off her shoulders, and instead cascading down her back.

John had slid further down the bed, until he was almost lying flat. He tried to rise up, to hold her in his arms, but he hadn't gotten very far before her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back down with a light "nuh uh" on her lips. She leaned on him, let the new position shift the way she moved until her breasts were rising and falling near enough to his face for him to kiss and lick at them as she passed.

Everything about him made her eyes water and her body tingle and she could have come right there, except she didn't want to. Certain he wouldn't try to rise up again, she leaned back until she was sitting on her haunches again, riding him and sparing only the slightest of smiles for passing thoughts of 10-gallon cowboy hats.

His hands were on her hips, drawing small circles against her flesh, and she grabbed him at the wrists. This was her show. Slowly, she guided his hands where she wanted them to go, sliding them up her torso, cupping her breasts and gently tweaking a nipple before pulling one hand like a marionette to her lips. His palm held her chin as his fingers laid flat and warm against her cheek. She pulled his thumb into her mouth, let her tongue wash over it as she bit down ever so lightly. He groaned beneath her, whispered her name as she rode him.

When he was sufficiently slick, she withdrew his thumb and lowered his hands back to her waist, positioning them so his fingers splayed out at her hips and his thumbs, oh his thumbs. She started for him, rubbing gently at the joints until he started moving them on his own, pleasuring her sweet spot until she could barely contain herself. Her composure was failing as she leaned back, providing him more exposure and steadying herself with hands on his legs as she bucked and writhed above him. Each breath came with a whimper that left her biting at her lip until finally , her knees clenched around his hips, his name nearly died on her lips and she pitched forward. Their lips almost smashed together, but whatever pain there might have been was lost as her fingers dug deep into his chest, leaving tiny crescents in his flesh as she shook with one last shuddering breath before disengaging from him and rolling to his side, with one of his arms curled protectively around her. She kissed his cheek, and his hold on her tightened.

"Would you get some water?" she asked between breaths.

John nodded, freed his arm from beneath Melissa's body and stood, stretching as he went. His bones cracked as he did, and there was something almost pleasant in the sound.

He was still hard, but rifled through the shopping bags with much less fervent need this time, plucking out two water bottles and returning to Melissa's side. She was facing away from him, her eyes transfixed on the window, and the subtle way the curtains blew when the air conditioning unit kicked on.  John held the bottle over her shoulder, and she accepted it, uncapping and sipping slowly without ever taking her eyes from the gently swaying fabric.

She'd always been like this in the slow moments after coming. Laser-focused on the tiniest of things and all the beauty they contained. It had always driven Rafe nuts. He wanted to fuck and he wanted to sleep curled up next to her, and he had very little patience for gazing at cracks in the wall, leaves rustling at the window or curtains blowing in the wind.

  
But John just sat with his back against hers, taking swigs of his own water until his thirst was quenched. She could feel him reach over and set the bottle on the bedside table before turning to her. He wrapped his arms around her body and rested his chin on her shoulder, following her gaze. His breath was cool on her neck as he kissed her once before turning his attention back to the window in silence.

"I saw a movie once," she finally said. "There was a boy in it. A messed up kid, really. Now, he kind of reminds me of Isaac. But he filmed a lot of things, and one of his proudest videos was just a grocery bag floating in the wind.  God, a lot of people made so much fun of that, but I always got it. I don't know why, it just seemed..."

"Beautiful," John finished as his lips went back to her neck. She smiled as she leaned into his embrace and his kiss. As one, they tilted onto their sides. She handed him her water, and with a stretch and a twisting of his back it found purchase on the nightstand, only to tip over with a glug as water spilled out.

"Uh oh."

She couldn't help but laugh as he turned back to her.

"We'll leave housekeeping a big tip," he whispered in her ear. His breath was warm again, the chill from the water having faded into a memory.

"We better," she mumbled as she raised her top leg and rested it over John's, providing him ample access. He pushed into her, thrusting slow and steady. When his attention wasn't on her neck or shoulders or sending shivers down her spine, she knew it was in the same place hers was: a small flap of curtain, fluttering in the window.

The AC shut off with a click and  a wheeze, and as the curtain stilled, Melissa let herself be turned, rolled onto her knees and elbows. He entered her from behind. His hands started on her hips before sliding to her ass, massaging her cheeks and traveling up her sides. He held her breasts, her shoulders. He let his fingers tangle in her hair. And when he leaned into her, his hands next to hers, his lips on the back of her neck, his thrusts were hard enough to make the headboard rattle. He raised her up to him, and when it seemed like there was barely a part of them that wasn't touching, he let his hands roam further. Across her chest and stomach. Between her legs.  She moaned with him, and when one hand went to her throat, she threw her head back for him.

He bared his teeth at her neck. Dragged them across the smooth skin. Bit gently down, and the sound she made, made him twitch inside her.

She leaned her face closer to his ear and whispered airily at him.

"I have an idea," she said. "If you want to stop before you come."

"Mmmhmm" he mumbled from the spot on her neck. He'd moved further down, almost to her shoulder, for a less conspicuous spot that could be covered with a shirt, and the sound he made from there was somewhere between a murmur and growl deep in his throat.He pushed into her a few more times before pulling out and falling into bed next to her.

"What did you want?" His fingers brushed over the purple spot that was beginning to form where his mouth had been on her. She smiled at him, before glancing down at his cock.

"Take it off," she said before nodding back to their shopping bags. "And lube up."

"Uhm..."

  
"It's not what you think." She kissed his quickly and laced her fingers between his. "Trust me."

He nodded and rolled out of bed, unsheathing his cock as he walked back to the chair that held their bags. It didn't take long to find the lube, and he squeezed a small amount in his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times to distribute it before running his hand over himself.  The action made him tremble with a sensitivity he hadn't felt in years, and he gasped, quickly pulling his hand away.

"Maybe grab a damp towel, too," Melissa said behind him. Grateful for the distraction, he turned to the bathroom and ran a hand towel under the faucet, twisting it to ring out the excess water. The water was cool running down his arm, almost enough to make him forget the ache in his groin. But when he returned to the main room, the towel was all but forgotten.

Melissa was lying on her back in bed, her knees bent, and her hand between her legs.  One finger flicked back and forth across her clit as she rubbed her other fingers and palm against her opening with a moan. For a moment, he just stared at her, feeling like he could watch her all day, every day and never get tired of it. Of course, his cock had other plans, and soon John found himself forced to look away, his eyes squeezed closed, his hands twisting around the wet towel, and his teeth biting down on a small piece of inner lip so tightly that, if it were any tighter, he'd be drawing blood. And still the sound of her breathing was almost enough to make him come all over the hotel carpet.

"Okay," she said, and he opened his eyes, taking her in again. She was still on her back, her legs spread wide and inviting for him, but her hand -- slick with her own come -- rested on her pelvis, forming an O. He cocked his head as he approached. She pulled him close with her clean hand, guiding his bare cock through the ring of the other.

His eyes closed again as he leaned forward until they were chest to chest and face to face, with one of her legs crooked behind his back.  He swallowed hard as he moved against her, sliding in and out of her hand. Her grip changed with each thrust until she found just the right one that made his head drop to her throat with a moan. She was still impossibly wet where her hand had been, and the touch-and-go feeling of his balls against her slickness as he fucked her hand made his whole body tense. She moved with him, her breath coming in time with his own, and somehow, with skin on skin, this glorified hand job felt like the most erotic thing they'd done all night.

He'd been close when they'd started, and it didn't take long before he jerked in her hand -- a groaned _god, Mel_ on his lips -- as he spilled on to her.

She smiled at him. It took all the energy he could muster, but he cocked the corner of his mouth up in a lop-sided grin that she kissed with all the passion she had left, sharing the dying embers of it with him, warming him from his head to his heart to his toes. He rolled off of her, cleaned them both with the damp towel before giving it a toss to land crumpled in the corner.

And when all was done, when they were exhausted and spent in every way they could imagine, they held each other and they slept.


End file.
